


A Princess, A Queen

by secondhandact



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Tentabulges, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 07:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4295925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondhandact/pseuds/secondhandact
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's passages between this world and another one, across the universe and on the other side of Time.<br/>Whether Dave realizes it or not, Time is his Aspect, and that means he has access to things that other people don't. Like the caverns between realities, where Time doesn't sit still and everything isn't exactly how it should be.<br/>It's a place that he can use to escape, somewhere he can go to think, where nobody else can find him.<br/>But Dave isn't the only being across the multiverses who is connected with Time, and he's not the only one who wants a place to hide from the real world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Princess, A Queen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inklesspen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inklesspen/gifts).



The first time he met her, he was five, and so was she.

As he stared up at the grey-skinned girl, so tall and different and _strange_ , she assured him (with a giggle and a smile) that five for her was not the same as five for him, and that she would always be his friend, now matter how much time had passed or how many years were between them.

The second time he met her, she actually looked like she was around his age, and she shied away from him the same way he’d flinched back from her when she was taller and brighter and older. Because she’d once told him to, he waited in the middle of the cavern on his knees until she peeked out from behind the rock where she’d hidden. When he saw her bright yellow eyes, he told her it was okay and he wouldn’t hurt her, and they could stay together for as long as she wanted. They spent hours that day playing tag and hide-and-seek in them caverns behind the locked doors of the old apartment building where Dave lived.

Her name was Aradia, and he thought she was a princess.

* * *

The apartment building where Dave grew up was ramshackle and old, with more boarded-up windows than open doors, on the rough side of town and the wrong side of the tracks. Dave didn’t know the names of anybody who lived on his street, but he didn’t care, because living in this beat-up old town meant having lots of places where he could play and explore. 

The first time he found another door that connected to Aradia’s world, he was ten and had only ducked into the condemned building to hide from the people who were chasing him. (Sometimes living on the bad side of town meant hiding from the bad sort of people, but Dave was always faster than they were.) She was older than him this time, wearing a robe with a hood and with weird wings glittering behind her. She hadn’t asked any questions—she never did—instead, simply taking him by the hand and leading him back to the cavern that connected to the apartment beside his home.

On the way, she told him stories of how he would someday be a Knight and they would be guardians of Time together. She spoke of the days (except she called them perigees) in the future when they would navigate these caverns together and know all of their ins and outs. He asked if he was with her now, in another place.

She smiled, kissed his forehead, and disappeared down one of the many tunnels, leaving him to navigate the rest of the way home.

He was eleven, and he was sure that someday she would be his queen.

* * *

More often than not, the Aradia he met in the caverns was older than him, and she told him cryptic stories of the future he would have putting hints in plain sight that only made sense long after events had happened. He always teased her about them, an they would go round and round with playful jabs about how and why she couldn't tell him exactly how things were supposed to be. The few times when he was older and she was but a child, he served well in his role as Knight, comforting her when she was scared and vowing to protect her with every chance he got. His time outside the caverns was spent training: he fenced, sparred, spent hours watching movies and reading books, anything he could do to hone his skill. After all, he had a queen to serve.

If anyone had told him that he would spend most of his days in the service of alien royalty, he would have laughed in their face.

* * *

He was fourteen the first time he said it aloud. The expression on her face was so astonished that he almost wished he could take it back.

“Why do you think that I’m a queen?”

Dave could feel his cheeks burning red. “Well you _are_ aren’t you? I mean, I’m your Knight, and I serve you—and stuff.”

Aradia laughed. (He loved it when she laughed.) “I never meant it like that! I just meant—we both serve Time. you as the Knight—the defender—and me as the Maid.”

Dave groaned, falling back on the cave’s cool floor, throwing an arm over his eyes. “What does that even _mean_!?”

Aradia laughed again. “All things in time.” Then she elbowed him like she'd made the funniest joke in the world, and her expression was so sincerely amused that he couldn't help but laugh, too.

* * *

He was sixteen the first time she kissed him, and he was almost positive that she was younger than him. 

Still, he let go on for longer than he should have (her lips were satin-soft and warm against his) before he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently away. Her eyes were wide when she looked up at him, and it made his heart ache.

“Don’t you want this?” She asked. “Aren’t you ready?”

Dave hesitated, wondering what she knew—so much younger than him!—and what he himself must have told her in what was her past and his inevitable future. “I’m ready,” he answered finally, “but I don’t think you are.”

* * *

The next time they met she was older, wiser, and more gentle than he’d ever expected her to be. Somewhere in the back of his head, he was aware that it should have been a momentous occasion—he was, after all, Losing his Virginity (capitals necessary)—but it almost didn’t feel like one. She showed him just how to touch her and where, how his fingers needed to press and what his hands should do when his mouth was working, and—

At the end of it, when they lay curled together with candlelight reflecting off the craggy ceiling, he asked her if it had felt like that for her, the first time she’d done anything with anyone.

“Oh, no,” she answered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind one of her ears. “You made sure it was wonderful.”

“I did?” He hoped he didn’t sound as bewildered as he felt.

“You did.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And because of tonight, you will again.”

He swallowed, closing his eyes. “How will I know when you’re ready?”

She smiled and didn’t say anything, snuggling closer to him and kissing him until he wasn’t thinking anymore.

* * *

She was right, of course.

He knew.

* * *

She’s sixteen ( _seven and a half sweeps,_ he whispers in his mind) and so is he, and they’ve spent hours laying in the mouth of one of the caves near Aradia’s home (she calls it a hive), staring up at the sky. They’ve exhausted all the topics of conversation they can think of, and now, Dave’s content to lie in silence.

Her hand is resting beneath his, and it’s a nice feeling.

“Y’know, it’s been almost a whole sweep since you told me I wasn’t ready.”

He isn’t expecting her to break the silence, and when she does, he shifts, supporting himself on his elbows so he can look down at her. She’s not looking at him, of course. Her eyes are still on the sky. “That’s more than two years for me.”

She nods, keeping her gaze fixed on the stars. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since then. About us,” she continues, still not looking at him. “About what we are. About what you mean to me.”

Dave swallows. He didn’t know his heart could beat this fast. “Yeah? And what did you decide?”

Now her gaze shifts to meet his. “I decided that I trust you.” She smiles. (His heart almost stops.) “And that’s what matters most, isn’t it?”

Barely daring to breathe, Dave nods. “Yeah. I think it is.”

This time when she moves to kiss him, he doesn’t stop her, and it isn’t until he’s tugging her shirt over her head that he pulls away. When his mouth touches her again, it’s to press a trail of kisses across the hollow of her throat (she gasps when his teeth hit her collarbone, just like he knew she would). His hand is on her thigh when she reaches for him, and he pushes gently at her fingers. 

“Not this time,” he promises. “This time is just for you.”

Aradia nods, and as he pushes up her skirt, she lays back, closing her eyes.

Honestly, he’s glad for the education her future-self had given him, because otherwise he would have been confused as hell with what she’s got between her legs. Her tentacle ( _bulge,_ his mind supplies helpfully) is only just starting to peek out of the slit between her legs, and he massages along the length of it, pressing gently at the hard exterior until it opens up enough to give him access to the hole (nook) she’s got hidden there. When he slips a finger into her, she sighs, and when he kisses the tip of her questing bulge, he can actually hear her breath catch.

Oh, yeah. He’s got this.

By the time he’s done working her with his mouth and fingers, the ground beneath her is damn near soaked with her fluids, and it takes him a couple minutes to wipe his face clean. (He leaves his hand between her legs while he does, though. Her bulge does all the work for him, slithering through his fingers and wrapping around his wrist, and even the lightest of motions with his fingers is enough to make her squirm.) She’s breathless at this point, and when he withdraws his hand, she grabs almost desperately at his wrist. “Dave—”

He’s struggling with his pants. “Yeah?”

She pulls at his wrist until he’s looking up at her, and he’s surprised to realize there’s fear in her eyes. “Am I ready?”

The smile he flashes at her feels bright enough to rival the sun. “I think you are. And if you think you’re not—remember, I’m here to take care of you.”

It only takes a little bit of adjusting before he’s where he needs to be. Her bulge curls around his shaft, and the slick sensation of it sliding against him is one of the best things he’s ever experienced. He groans, rutting against her, and she moans in response, the sound breathy and light. 

It takes only a few moments before she’s rocking up against him (just like she’d told him she would), and her nails are sharp as she grasps desperately at his hips. “Enough teasing.” It’s half-demand, half-plea, and she bucks almost hard enough to throw him off. “ _Please._ ”

Dave slides his hand between them, untangling her bulge from his organ. “Your wish is my command.”

It only takes a couple seconds for him to position himself properly between her legs, and when he enters her, he seals his mouth against hers, tongue swiping over her bottom lip (carefully, though; her teeth are sharp and he’s not stupid) as he shimmies his hands over her sides. It’s not hard to find the sensitive scars that her older self had named ‘grub scars’, and as he scratches his nails across them, she whimpers, her inner walls clenching almost painfully hard around him.

With Aradia, it’s less thrusting and more grinding, and he keeps one hand on her side while the other massages at her writhing bulge. Her nook ripples around him, squeezing at him as he rocks into her, and she’s panting beneath him, clutching at his arms. When she makes noise, it’s almost always his name, whimpered against her forearm while she arches beneath him. “Dave—oh, _Dave—_ ”

Dave himself is incapable of words. He’s done this before but this still feels new, and she’s amazing, perfect, more than he had ever dreamed of, and her nook is clenching at him harder, encouraging him to move faster—

She comes with a cry that echoes off the walls and into the night, coating his entire lower half in her fluids, nails biting into his skin. It’s impossible for him to hold back, so he doesn’t, bowing his head against her shoulder and gritting his teeth, choking on her name as he spends himself inside her, his own pleasure so overwhelming that he almost can’t breathe. His whole world is her, just her, nothing but her, and when he sinks next to her, she turns against his chest, covering his throat in soft kisses.

“My Knight,” she sighs, tucking herself against him.

 _My Queen,_ he thinks, burying his face against her hair and closing his eyes.

It’s the only time they’ve ever slept next to each other, and it’s a first for both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually really enjoyable to write, and it was so sweet that it was hard for me to make it super explicit. Dear person I wrote this for: I'm really sorry if it isn't explicit enough for you!  
> I do not actively ship DoubleTime, but this was fun. I also do not usually write in third person, so, uh...apologies if it reads weird, because I'm used to using 'you' in place of 'he'. Yep.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
